


you're nobody ‘til somebody loves you

by TealTumbleweed



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:11:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19304848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TealTumbleweed/pseuds/TealTumbleweed
Summary: In which Crowley has a hard time staying in character and Aziraphale’s not good with words.





	you're nobody ‘til somebody loves you

**Author's Note:**

> Something short and sweet to work out a “But what if…?” scenario that suddenly popped into my head.

Crowley was the first to say “I love you.”

It threw Aziraphale for a loop. “Well, yes, obviously,” was his reply, even though it hadn’t been obvious to Crowley at all. It should have been, in retrospect, of course. But at that moment, all he could think to say was, “Oh.” He took a good look at his angel (and he had been ‘his’ for a good few millennia now, hadn’t he?) and was surprised at the blush on his cheeks. Not because he wasn’t used to Aziraphale blushing—he did a great deal of that—but because it clashed with the ease with which he had said “obviously.”

“I had thought you would object, or something,” Crowley said eventually. “I mean, it’s pretty much against the rules, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale blushed more fiercely. “Yes, well,” he said, fidgeting a little. “Fuck the rules.”

Crowley’s brows rose from underneath his sunglasses. “All right then,” he said slowly. Aziraphale was decidedly not looking at him. It confused him, because Aziraphale always seemed to love looking at him. He tended to do a lot of that, after all.

This wasn’t what Crowley had been anticipating. He had imagined telling Aziraphale that he loved him a gazillion times, but his mental angel had always had reasons aplenty to reject him. He had thought it would have needed a bit more convincing, at the least. He had arguments at the ready and everything.

Aziraphale hummed. “Well, I better be on my way,” he said, still not looking at Crowley. “Work to do, miracles to perform.”

And then he was just gone, leaving Crowley staring at the wall, baffled.

\-----

Crowley spent the rest of the day confused. Nevertheless, he decided against sulking and tried to get other people to sulk in his stead. He had just arrived at the door to his flat from a day of making ice cream melt at an advanced pace when he noticed Aziraphale already there, apparently waiting for him.

“I made dinner,” he said instead of a greeting.

Crowley blinked at him, but it went unnoticed behind his sunglasses.

“Only, I seem to have cooked for two people,” Aziraphale continued. “Would you like to join me?”

Crowley looked at him, trying to get a read on his friend’s expression. His face tried to do too many things at once, and Crowley was at a loss. “Yeah, go on, then,” he said after thinking the request over for a second.

He drove the two of them to Aziraphale’s flat, which smelled downright—damn him—heavenly.

‘I seem to have cooked for two people’ turned out to have been a _lie_ —a whole army could have sustained itself for a day on the amount of food piled on the dinner table.

Crowley felt his eyes widen. “You, uh, expecting more company?” he asked.

“What? No!” Aziraphale shrieked. “Don’t be silly.” He ushered Crowley to a chair. In front of him, the dishes were almost piled on top of each other, there were so many of them. It didn’t escape his notice that they were all his favourites.

“Special occasion, is it?” he tried weakly.

“What? No!” Aziraphale echoed himself. “I just fancied a spot of cooking.”

The angel was blushing again, a sight that would never fail to make Crowley go a bit weak. Not that he’d ever admit to something like that, mind.

“Everything all right with you?” Crowley asked, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

“Mhm,” Azirahpale hummed as he started heaping Crowley’s plate with food.

“Are you… buttering me up for something?”

Aziraphale looked at him, surprise evident in his eyes.

“What? No!”

“You’ve said that three times now,” Crowley remarked. He tilted his head and regarded his angel with interest.

Aziraphale just blushed harder as he busied himself with his own plate.

“Angel?” Crowley tried, taking off his sunglasses.  Aziraphale finally looked up, meeting his eyes. He sighed and sat down heavily across from him.

“It’s just—” Aziraphale looked at the food in front of him. “It seems—”

“You? At a loss for words?” Crowley snarked.

Aziraphale glared at him. “Well, it’s your fault!” he said, and then his expression softened. “You and your… perfection.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “A problem, that, is it?” he said.

“Yes!” Aziraphale replied. “Well, no. Of course not. I’m just no good at… saying it back.”

Crowley cocked his head. It took him a second before it dawned on him. “Oh, angel,” he said.

“I’ve just never said it before!” Aziraphale lamented before Crowley could say anything else. “It’s big, isn’t it?”

Crowley pursed his lips a little. “What, and you think I had?” he returned. “Who do you think I’m going ‘round saying I love them to?”

Aziraphale visibly deflated. “Oh,” he said, as if that hadn’t occurred to him. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” His blush finally lessened a bit. “Okay. Here I go.”

Crowley looked at him expectantly.

“I…” Aziraphale started. “Love you?”

Crowley smirked. “Is that a question?”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “No! There you go, I knew I would muck it up.” He buried his face in his hands.

“You get as many tries as you need,” Crowley encouraged him, kicking his leg affectionately under the table.

Aziraphale looked up again. “I do?” he asked.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Of course you do,” he said patiently. Sort of.

“I… love you,” Aziraphale said slowly. “There! I love you! I love, love, love, love _you_! Ha-haa, I said it!”

Crowley almost felt his heart physically clench with adoration for his angel. “Well done,” he said, a soft smile on his face. He quickly caught on to his expression, though, and morphed it back into a smirk. Demons didn’t smile softly, after all, not even at their idiot angel boyfriends.

“Wow,” Aziraphale said, an expression of almost childlike wonder on his face. “I’m never going to stop saying it.”

Crowley, suddenly a little uncomfortable with the ray of affection beaming into his existence, grabbed his fork and plunged it into the food on his plate. “Can’t let a good meal go to waste,” he said, changing the subject.

“A labour of love,” Aziraphale said dreamily. “Oh, I do adore cooking for you.” He was still looking at Crowley, who had to avert his gaze for a second. It was like looking into the sun, sometimes. He took a big bite to distract himself. The food was, of course, sublime, and he moaned a little in appreciation. Well, and to make Aziraphale blush again. He was just so easy to wind up.

“Stop it, you,” Aziraphale said to his own plate, knowing full well what Crowley was up to, and the demon smirked in his general direction. Aziraphale looked at him, blushed harder, looked away, smiled in that special way of his, and looked back at Crowley. “You’re a dangerous man to be around, my dear,” he said.

“And yet you love me for it,”  Crowley said, still smirking.

Aziraphale waved his hand to and fro. “Don’t push your luck,”  he said. “Go and eat your food.”

\-----

It was a few hours later when angel and demon found themselves on the right side of tipsy, bringing up centuries-old memories and smiling so much it hurt Crowley’s cheeks a little. Still, it was good to smile. Crowley liked the way Aziraphale looked at him when he smiled, even if it was a tad undemon-like.

Aziraphale was looking at him now as he drained the last of the wine from his glass. He sighed, a little sadly. “We should sober up,” he said.

Crowley sat up a little straighter. “No,” he said as he took one of Aziraphale’s hands into his own. “I want to stay like this with you.” Mentally, he blamed his momentary weakness on the alcohol.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows shot up high on his forehead. He looked a little harder at Crowley in that special way of his, and Crowley felt himself sink back into the sofa.

“Nevermind,” he mumbled as he tried to extract his hands from Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale tightened his grip. “You can stay however long you want,” he said, sincerity shining from his eyes.

Crowley considered this. Even though they had been incredibly close for thousands of years, they’d never actually spent more than a few consecutive hours together. Neither of them had a real need for sleep, yet they always went home alone at night. For the first time he wondered why that was, but he couldn’t come up with an answer on his own. He asked Aziraphale.

Aziraphale spluttered, blushed, then spluttered again. “What?” he, well, somewhat shrieked, eventually.

Crowley was confused, but it dawned on him after a few seconds and he rolled his eyes. “You spend too much time with humans,” he said. “I’m not saying we should spend the night together in a carnal manner. That’s not us. I just meant, we like spending time together. Why should we be apart for the night?”

Aziraphale calmed down again, though his blush remained. “Oh,” he said. “That actually is a good question. One I don’t have an answer to. Yes. Well. Would you… Would you like to spend the night?”

“I would absolutely love to. We can have a sleepover,” Crowley replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

Aziraphale laughed that soft laugh of his. “That sounds rather lovely,” he said earnestly. “I’ve got a pair of pyjamas you can borrow.” He led Crowley into the hallway and rifled through a wardrobe before presenting a pair of soft cream pyjamas. He held them up in front of Crowley and cocked his head to the side. “Not exactly your colour, is it?” he said, but Crowley stopped him before he could miracle them to black.

“I like the idea of wearing something that’s yours,” Crowley admitted, though he had some difficulty getting the words past his lips. It didn’t feel like a very demonic thing to say.

Aziraphale hummed, a content look on his face. He lead Crowley into his bedroom, which looked like it was hardly ever used, and grabbed his own nightclothes. They got changed in silence, then lay down next to each other on the large bed in the middle of the room. Crowley let his hand fall in the space between them and it took only a moment before Aziraphale laced his fingers in his own.

“You’re a bit tense, my dear,”  Aziraphale whispered, addressing the ceiling.

“Didn’t think I could have new experiences, after so long,” Crowley returned. “It’s nice, though.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed. “Very nice.”

They lay in silence for a few minutes before Crowley turned onto his side and regarded his angel, who moved his head to look back at him. Crowley slowly crawled a little closer, until he could rest his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Wait, this is—” Aziraphale moved them so he had one arm around Crowley. “Hmm, that’s better.”

Crowley closed his eyes as he took in his boyfriend’s presence underneath him. Aziraphale’s free hand moved to his hair and started slowly carding through his short locks.

“I love that you love me,” Crowley said suddenly. “It’s my favourite thing about existence. I’m nothing without you, angel.” He could feel Aziraphale downright purr underneath him.

“I love that you love me,” Aziraphale echoed him. “Eternity wouldn’t be so bad with you by my side.”

Crowley smiled into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Forever,” he agreed.

They didn’t know what was to come. But they knew what had been, and it had forged a love so strong that it eclipsed everything else. Sometimes that was all the certainty you need.


End file.
